Liber bestiarum
by Worldsweaver
Summary: England wants revenge on Germany. But when he summons up something he might not have full control over what does he do then? What happens when other countries get caught up in it too? What does he summon: A dragon. Please RnR. Rated for Iggy's mouth.
1. Chapter 1 Hatch

**Okay, here is my second story. I know it's crap so you don't need to add that in the reviews. But enjoy! Niether England, Hetalia nor any of the charecters mentioned are owned by me- exept my OC's. If you want to use them just ask. Have a good read and then review! **

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><p>Dust wipes off onto my the Brit's as he charged angrily down the hardly used stairs. He planted his feet angrily into the wooden stairs as memories of 'That Potato Eating Nazi' as Feliciano's brother had dubbed him whir through his mind. He entered the small concrete basement. Old ugly wall paper clung to the walls but had started to peel off with the centuries of neglect.<p>

The man grabbed as many books on magic and summoning as he could find and tossed them onto the floor, then crossed over to them and looked through them trying to find a good curse to put on the German. As he scanned the books one caught his eye: _"__Liber B__estiarum"_ was written in blood-red ink on the front of one of his books that looked as if it had been bound in human leather thousands of years ago- though it was most likely that it was made in a magic thrift shop a week before he bought it.

The Brit hefted the large book onto his lap and opened it; he was greeted with a puff of dust that made his eyes water. He coughed and rubbed his nose to clear it from the mildew. He then flipped through the pages. As he scanned the pages one caught his eye: he stopped at a picture of one of the myths that floated around his country. A dragon, was painted eating a horde of attackers out side of a witches house. The summons was inked in at the bottom of the page:

_1 1/2 liters of water._

_500 grams of sodium._

_3,000 grams of calcium._

_800 grams of eye of newt._

_13 ounces of crocodile teeth._

_13 grams of bat wing leather._

_400 pounds of gold._

_72 grams of iron (powdered)._

_32 grams of chlorine (gas form)._

_45 grams of zinc (powdered)._

_89 liters of mercury (liquid)._

_1 human skeleton (only to create one drake). _

The sandy haired Brit gawked at this, was this what you made to create a dragon? But the list ran on:

_Depending on what species of drake you wish to summon you will need:_

**_FIRE: _**

_2 pounds of coal._

_4 liters of any liquid lighter fluid._

**_WATER: _**

_Add five extra litters of water._

_3 litters of nitrogen (liquid form)._

**_AIR:_**

_7 extra sheets of bat wing leather._

**_EARTH: _**

_800 grams of soil from any tropical area._

_**LIGHT:** (otherwise known as a Chinese dragon)_

_Do NOT add bat leather._

_400 grams of uncooked rice._

**_SHADOW: _**

_Add 20 extra crocodile teeth._

_Add 2 human corpses._

_689 grams of nitrogen (liquid)._

_Combinations are **STRICTLEY PROHIBITED**, violators are charged with magyc law braking and will be prosecuted and caught._

Arthur finished reading on how to animate a dragon and marked the page with a piece of paper. Then he stood and went out to collect the basic material.

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><p>The British man jogged out of the cemetary with a body slung over his shoulder. Why did annoying Germany have to make him look so heartless? And now smell like death.<p>

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><p><strong>ONE WEEK LATER<strong>

"Egypt? Are you there?" England's voice crackled in through the telephone.

"Yes. What do you want Britain-" The Egyptian man yawned, stroking a skinny yellow cat.

"I need thirteen ounces of crocodile teeth. Soon would be great." England cut in, he could hear the man on the other end of the phone cry out.

"Why do you need that many crocodile teeth?"

"None of your business, now please- I can pay." He jingled a few gold coins into the hearing range of the old fashioned telephone and heard the African man chuckled.

"Fine, I will send them." Egypt chuckled.

"As soon as you can?" England questioned.

"As soon as I can." The other reassured.

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><p>By the time the teeth had arrived Arthur had managed to gather all the ingredients and had drawn out the pentacle onto the concrete floor. In a ceremonial bowl he combined them, mixing all the ingredients together and then backing out of the magic circle. He lit a match and tossed it onto the potion setting it aflame. Then he chanted the thirteen words of binding and the summoning charm and waited. At first nothing happen, all he had done was set a large bowl of crap and a dead guy on fire. He cursed under his breath for his own naivety. Then noticed that the fire had become a dark shade of gray and the ingredients had started to weld together. He saw scales start to form and then die away as the bubbling mass started to grow out of the ceramic bowl and ooze across the floor: elongating and rising onto four short slender legs.<p>

"Bloody hell.." The Brit started to mumble as the thing shook itself and gazed at him through slit pupils, it's eyes as yellow as harvested wheat.

As soon as the magic died away and it was safe to move he imediatly crossed over to the circle and picked up a creature that resembled a skinny cat in size- but had small dark green scales. It was soft, like it had skin. He stroked it, feeling the soft scales, it was still wet. It seemed to purr, rubbing against his hand like a loving pet. Arthur felt a smile creep onto his lips, the thing was so innocent. It didn't have wings, but had told oval sacks attached to it's back. He poked one of the sacks with an awkward finger, it was gooey like an egg sack and he could feel something hard beneath the substance coating them- whatever they were. He tucked the creature under his arm, it started to play with his sleeve as he picked up the spell book and sat on the floor to continue reading.

_Your new drake should be fed regularly, a chicken should suffice when your dragon is still in infantile form. The two sacks on it's back are normal, they are just it's wings forming. Your young dragon is like a bird- if it's wings are injured in any way it will be unable to fly and should be killed to put it out of it's misery._

Arthur looked at the thing now sitting on his lap as he sat on the cold stone floor and read. It blinked at him sleepily and then tucked it' head under the flap of his coat.

_Drakes grow quickly so be prepared for it hunting on it's own after a while._

He looked back down at the creature. It was fast asleep. He put down the book, he would read it later anyway. The nation stood, grabbing the still sleeping creature before it fell off his lap. He trudged up the small staircase and entered the foyer. To his less than pleased surprise he found his blonde nemesis sitting in his favorite chair.

"Aw do 'ou have a new cat?" Francis said cooing at the animal, England guessed he was to far away to see the horns... or the wing sacks...

"Yeah.. Why are you in my house?" The Englishman yelped, almost dropping the small creature.

"Oh, Germany, Prussia, 'Ungary (Hungary) and moi are going out to get a few drinks, care to join?" He paused, glanced at the 'cat' then looked back up at the annoyed Arthur "Can I see it?"

"No and no." England shouted, "I mean, uh."

France looked at him disappointed but then cheered back up. "Well, I should best be leaving then. Au revoir"

It had to be the worst moment for the small creature to pipe up: It sounded somewhere in between a growl and a hiss but still caught Francis's attention as he was already half way out the door.

"Let me see it." He said crossing over to England who shrank away from him.

He didn't know what to say- He couldn't think of an excuse as France picked up the scaly bundle from his arms and looked at it amazed. "She is so cute! I love her, what are you going to name this new baby?" He said cheerfully as England looked over at the small baby human girl the Francis now hugged again as it giggled and squirmed. "It has the most amazing eyes, like yours but- Is this your child?" He said and handed the baby back over to England.

"No."

"But you look almost exactly alike!"

He played along with France "I know right? It's weird."

He looked down at the baby girl he held in his hands- she had dirty blonde (like his) big green emerald eyes (like his) and weirdly enough- thick, though not quite bushy eyebrows. (Also like his...)

The child burbled and squirmed as France started to go all mushy and tickle her.

"Well, au revior." And France turned and left. As he turned the child turned back into the dragon and France walked out of the house.

The small dragon looked up at him with it's large eyes hungrily- then clamped it's mouth around his chin- as he now figured out it had teeth. England danced around trying to pry the dragon off himself.

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked the first chapter! I know it isn't that long but hopefully they'll get better. Thank you guys for reading. And I know there are gramatical and spelling mistakes but other than that if you guys want to suggest names for the dragon England now has post them in the reviews! Now read and review! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2 Flight

**Me: Sorry about the update being late... blah. But give a round of applause (when I get more reviewers) to 'i heart manga 89' for naming the dragon! Since they are my first review this chapter is for them. Dankai heart manga 89! Now for Iggy to give us a starting 'I don't own this stuff'...**

**England: You bloody better have a good excuse about updating this late...**

**Me: I'm sorry! *goes in emo corner***

**Russia: While England is comforting Worldsweaver I guess I'll be giving the speech, ~da? England, myself, and whoever else is mentioned in this story is owned by there rightful owner. But Worldsweaver owns the dragon. **

**England: You just took my job you git! well... I suppose I do owe you for this chapter though... **

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><p>C H A P T E R 2<p>

"Papa!" The girls voice called out. The high pitched squeal jerked both men out of their political conversation. England bored expression immediately melted away into a small smile as the girls voice cut through the American's sentence.

"I'm having a meeting my sweet, please- I will be back shortly." England called over his shoulder. Then reluctantly went back to his conversation with America.

The small thin girl came running into the room. Messy blonde hair bouncing in time with her small bare feet. She looked to be only about seven but was more in the range of nine months old.

"I'm gonna go outside. Is that alright papa?" She smiled and then threw a side long glance at the American who was half way through eating a cheeseburger. "Who's he?" She growled at the American who was finishing his meal and was licking his fingers, satisfied with his snack.

"He's one of my business partners, now would you please-" England started, but cut off by the girl who lunged across the table -from where England sat- to land on America, both he and the chair he had been sitting in topple over backwards to land on the carpet.

"GAH!" America gasped in shock of losing his breath. "IT'S A MINI ENGLAND! CREEPY KID, CREEPY KID!" He screamed trying to shove the child off of him. "LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY!"

"America, meet my daughter- this is Eryn. Say hello Eryn." England grumbled, prying the girl off of America and holding her in his arms as the American got shakily to his feet. He mumbled his thanks and glared at the snarling child in England's arms.

"'Bloody cheesecake..." Eryn grumbled.

"Eryn! Don't say such things in civilized company!" England gawked suppressing his smile with a grimace.

"That's your daughter?" America laughed- tea spilling all over his lap at the next lunge from the girl.

"Don't insult me!" She barked showing her strangely pointed teeth.

"America, would you please apologize to the girl." England said picking the child up.

"No!" America scoffed and turned his nose up at the thrashing child.

"You will regret saying that Mister America..." Eryn growled- her pupils dilated then shrunk to almost slits as the shadows in the room started to contort and twist as Eyrn's face started to elongate and her skin started to molt into scales and darken into a deep shade of green, like England's eyes.

"GAH!" America started to turn and run- "SATANIC CHILD!" he screamed as the girl now grew wings.

"Eryn K-Kirkland!" England panicked dropping her in shock.

She screeched claws digging into the hardwood floor as the American started sprinting for the door. She leaped- wings beating once, twice. She glided across the foyer at Alfred who looked on the verge of tears.

"Take that, beast! American justice! Hah!" He kicked out catching the she-dragon in the wing sending her over his head, she spun out of control and crashed into the fireplace.

England ran over to where the carnage lay before him. He completely ignored America and knelt beside the small body. He gently picked the creature up and set it in his lap. America shakily got up from the floor and brushed himself off.

"Serves it right." He muttered but was cut off by a teary eyed Britain.

"Why did you do that!" He cried, tears starting to spill over as he held the small fragile body against his chest "You killed her you monster- you brute!" He whimpered.

"I was just defending myself." America said in defense, he walked over to the man and crouched beside him.

"She won't be able to live any longer- and it's all because of you!" England barked. He sobbed then looked down at the limp body. "A dragon is nothing without it's ability to fly."

America assessed the small body- it lay limply in England's lap, four legs curled tightly to it's slender frame as it's wings still extended as if still in flight. But it's right wing was contorted and looked like it had an extra joint. He winced at the damage. "England- I'm really sorry if it means anything to you..."

"A-am I really n-nothing to you, papa?" A weak voice cut through the Alfred' apologies. "Did you create me just for me to fly?" It asked- the two nations looked at it dumbly.

"N-no. Of course not," England began.

"Then why did you create me?"

"Because..." England stuttered- why had he created her? Because he wanted revenge on Germany? A living breathing weapon? "B-because I wanted a daughter, someone that I could love and that I could take care of."

England mentally slapped himself- this hadn't gone as planned. He absentmindedly wiped at his cheek feeling the hot liquid that poured from his eyes. "Don't cry papa... I don't want to make you sad.." the small creature sighed.

"I am sorry."The creature tried to stand- one of it's wings dragging pathetically as it tried to look happy as it walked towards America "Papa likes you- He thinks your a very nice friend." The girl said and fell only to be caught by England.

"You really think so?" America wondered as he patted a teary eyed England on the back.

"You never disappointed me, Eryn." He whimpered. Crystal like tears cutting their way through his tanned rugged skin.

England lifted the dragon-girl in his arms and briskly walked down the hallway, he paused- a shadow of doubt crossing his mind.

"The other nations should be here soon- what should I say?" America said blankly what the other nation thought.

"Tell them I'm sick- but you have to continue the meeting." He then entered the small spiral stairwell and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm going to make you better- okay Eryn?" He reassured as he laid her down gently onto the cold stone floor. He then chalked out a pentacle and sat int the circle opposite the dragon-girl.

Maybe if he had read the rest of the chapter he would have paused and put the girl out of her misery- but there was always a chance that he would have ignored the warnings and still continued even if it meant risking the consequences. He blurted out all the words of healing in one breath and waited as curls of purple danced around the pentacle surrounding the injured girl. One of the tendrils lashed out and cut England's pant leg, then it retreated back into the rest of the strange aura. England swallowed and continued chanting.

"Vos can utor iustus quid sana eam! Haec mea filia." He cried at the small body.

He could hear America greeting guests down the hall and wished he had locked the door. The tendrils of purple and black had gotten significantly bigger and were starting to explore out of the protective circle. He shifted in his seat and continued the rest of the spell. Suddenly the door burst open and a very tall Russian cried out "How has my little подсолнечник (sunflower) been doing? Amerika told me not to check on you because you were not feeling well but I want to visit my little island подсолнечник, ~d-" At this he was cut off. the Russian wasn't in any protective circle so the tendrils could get at him. The spell was broken- the tendrils could get at anyone.

The large man screamed as the dark tendrils exploded out of their confined circle and raced towards him. Russia tried thrashing around trying to remove the growing mass of purple and black sticking to him but it was to no avail- so the man was forced to his knees and was crying for help. England ran towards the nation and tried ripping off the things- he grasped one in his hand; it was slippery and had one mouth at one end full of sharp teeth, it reminded him of an eel or a leech as he started to pull more off the struggling man. Soon the other allies had joined in helping their fallen friend rid himself of the slimy creatures. They could hear his muffled screams as the things invaded his mouth, noes, ear- and wherever they could find an access point.

"Mon Dieu! What happened here!" France cried as he helped with the freeing of the trapped Russian.

"I tried to conduct a spell- but something happened and Russia walked in without any protection.."

"Cher Dieu..." France mumbled as a couple of the black leeches latched themselves to him and he violently tried to pull them off.

"Russia!" China practically dove into the tarry sticky black ooze to retrieve his friend.

Finally all the Allies were there yanking off the creatures, which just crawled back to the pile. Then everything settled down- it seemed as if the black creatures melted into the unconscious heap of Russian draped across the floor, he had red rings over what seemed every inch of his skin from the leech-like creatures bites. Everyone else was covered in the nasty purple black tar. France slumped against a wall, Australia, his hands on his knees taking ragged breaths. China brushed of some of the tar. England wiped it from his eyebrows and hair.

"S-so, how's your daughter?" America blurted out.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it!~ poor Russia, he has it rough in this chap.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Trapped

**England: Thanks to 'i heart manga 89' I was able to name my daughter.**

**America: HOLY CRAP THAT THING IS YOUR DAUGHTER?**

**Eyrn: ... I'm going to eat you. But, England and all the other charecters mentioned here ('cept me) belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. If Worldsweaver owned them England would once again rule the world with a cutlass and tricorner hat. *shivers* Scary.**

**England: Ar. M' lass be correct. I be owned by Hidekaz.**

**America: ... NO. I will not be a little kid again. NEVA. **

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><p>CHAPTER 3<p>

"What the bloody hell was that." England questioned himself.

The image of Eyrn flashed in his mind and he desperately clawed his way through the other nations to come to where the pentacle was scorched black onto the gray stones. _Damn. It was going to be a monster to try and clean of all that black stuff._ Eyrn was no longer on the stone floor- in fact, to England's dismay. She was nowhere to be found.

"Eyrn! Eyrn where are you!" He called out over and over, until his throat burned with overuse.

The Allies merely watched as England tore through the room in search of the dragon girl. He eventually set eyes on the half-dead Russian.

"This is all your bloody fault you git!" He screeched at the unconscious heap. "If it weren't for you none of this would have happened and Eyrn would be healthy again!" He stamped his feet in annoyance sending up spirals of dust.

"I was just about to say to you the same thing, ~aru!" China bombarded him "Just look at my hand ~aru!" China waved his hand around and shoved it in in the surprised Englishman's face.

In truth, China had a very good reason to be distressed about his hand: It had the pentacle England had used to try and heal Eyrn imprinted onto the man's palm. "D-does anyone feel off?" England asked studying China's palm, "As in different?"

"Yeah- I do," France stated, the other nations nodded in agreement except for Russia who lay still unconscious on the floor. France grabbed his own backside and started to leave "I'll be right back." He squeaked and left the room.

The other nations followed France with their eyes as he painfully waddled out the door. They could hear the restroom door slam and then a dreaded scream. "MON DIEU! ENGLAND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

England dropped the flustered Chinese-man's hand and rushed to where France stood in the restroom holding a hand mirror. He was grasping the handle so hard his knuckles were beginning to take on a milky white color.

"What?" England said in mock horror at the Frenchman's dramatic pose.

"You gave me a tattoo!" The romantic man burst into tears as England sighed and rolled his eyes before crossing over to check if his melodramatic comrade was okay.

Unfortunately, checking if his 'friend' was okay meant France grabbing at him at every chance he got to try and examine the tattoo. The tattoo: was a pentacle with a red dragon winding around it; And it was on France's lower back which meant France giggled every time England dared to poke at it.

France's shot a hand out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed the others vital regions, that was the last straw. England threw up his hands and walked out of the small room. "Does anyone have a tattoo on them?"

"Yes." Was the answer each ally gave even Russia who looked about as happy as a wet cat when Yao woke him out of his unconsciousness- that is. Before they heard the sirens.

France burst into the magic study with enough force to knock over an elephant.

"It's the Axis! There bombing us!" he cried, "Mon dieu- I saw it with my own two eyes!"

"Calm down- This place looks sturdy. ~Da." Russia calmly cut off the Frenchman by putting a gloved hand firmly onto the others shoulder. "England, do you mind getting me some vodka before we barricade ourselves down here?" He ended this by letting France go, the Frenchman lept a good six away from Mother Russia before calming down again.

England nodded, "I can also bring down some scones if anyone is hu-"

"NO." was the reply barked to him as he left the room.

His shoes made hardly a sound- drowned out by the whistling of bombs as they exploded from impact. England took a deep breath before rummaging through the alcohol cabinet. Before he could stand there was a deafening boom followed by rubble flying in every direction. The man was thrown to the ground as the roof of the building collapsed. He no longer could see- either the lights had gone out or he was buried, either way he was probably going to die. The Nazi's were going to take over England and make it German territory. There was the sound of cracking wood and something landed on him- it was a rafter. England thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head after the long heavy piece of wood pinned him to the ground. He slowly lost consciousness in the blackness that surrounded him.

_"Arthur.."_ A girls voice said near him.

England cracked one eye open, nothing. It was still black. He couldn't see anything. The man wet his lips and tasted the coppery flavor of blood.

_"Papa."_ immediately Arthur opened his eyes and started to struggle causing dust to force itself into his eyes. _"Papa; Your going to hurt yourself. Stop. Let me help you."_ Now the man realized the girl wasn't next to him- she was in his head. There was no way a girl could fit under a ton of rubble in a closed space with him.

"A-am I dead?" England spoke more to himself than to anyone particularly.

_"Do you hurt?"_ Now that the voice mentioned it- he could feel where the rafter was pinning him and he gasped for air and out of pain as the nerves came back to normal.

_"Just wait a little longer Papa- I'll help you."_ The voice said. It sounded like Eyrn's, but he couldn't be sure until he saw her.

Days must have gone by till he heard from the girl again. His eyes started to adjust to the darkness. He was in a small space on his stomach, he couldn't and didn't want to look back at the condition of his waist and legs considering they were being crushed by multiple things. Only his chest, arms and head were poking out of the carnage. England groaned from the pain of all the weight.

But he soon got tired of calling for help and resided in picking at invisible pieces of wood. Every hour or so he would scratch a line on the floor board. So far he had about eighty. He sighed in agrivation. Maybe if there was a chess set or some tea he could have he would be less bored. The wood crushing his midriff was painful, but after this many days it had become numb so he just ignored it most of the time and counted fragments of burnt wood.

If England had one word to describe this event; It would be tiredness. Sometimes he would recite bits and pieces of Shakespeare, or Alice in Wonderland out loud or in his head. It kept him going but with the smell of burnt hair and blood, orange marmalade made him hungry. That was another thing that drove him crazy- the little supply of food there was. And the little supply of food was more like a bottle of vodka. Vodka was the only thing there to fill his empty stomach so he took small sips to try and conserve the alcohol- at least it helped with the pain. Now he realized why Russia loved the stuff. It lulled him into a oblivious state of mind so he no longer felt the crushing weight of the house.

"I must be going mental.. Yes. That's it. I've lost it in this solitude. I must have been down here for days." He chattered to himself after what he assumed was his eighth day in confinement.

_"Okay Papa, I'm ready."_ The girls voice interrupted his train of thought (If your still not quite sure how to imagine a bored trapped England- he was so bored that his thoughts could make even France's widest dreams seem like child's play.)

"What were you bloody waiting for? It's been forever since I last talked to you!" England barked, annoyed at how long he had been stuck in the tiny space.

_"...Here we go then."_ the voice said slightly abruptly.

England could here the moving of heavy objects as the girl tried freeing him from the rubbish heap.

As the junk cleared he could hear voices: "England!" "Англия!" "Angleterre! Where are you!"

He called back in a strained voice "Bloody hell it's been a week and a half since you've found me- I could have bloody died down here! You wankers were only a hundred feet away from me and you still took a week to find me!"

"England?" there was a streak of bright light that cascaded down into the small space in which he was trapped. "It's only been an hour and a half."

A shocked England was pulled out by a giggling Russia and slung over the tall mans shoulder like a potato sack. "Oh. I see." It was the only smart thing he could say before suddenly finding a spot on his dirtied hands he could stare at as he envisioned how wrong he was.

The Englishmen took out his pocketwatch and stared at it in horror. The meeting had started at 6:00. The bombs had probably fallen at about 6:20. The time now was 7:30. Englands mouth moved in a fish like manner as he looked in shock. _How the bloody hell did I miscalculate? _

"How long did you think you were trapped, England?" France chuckled to himself. His pleasure soon ended when England sent him a glare that could burn holes in concrete.

"Shut it, frog."

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><p><strong>AN Whats gonna happen next~ whats gonna happen next~. Poor Iggy, so confused with time. I did the same thing though once- I read the entire night and when I thought the sun was still setting when I got out of bed. Turns out the sun was rising. Now that I know astrology pretty well I can tell where I am and what time it is with the sun/stars.**

**R/R! So far I only have one mini- I mean. So far I only have one faithful reviewer! Lets make it more people! (Thanks.) **

**Oh ja. The italics if you didn't already know are going to be when England is thinking to himself- but in this chapter they also stood for when Eyrn was talking. **


	4. Chapter 4 War

**Sorry for the strange updating times. I've been having the worst writers block :p. But something you guys might like to listen to while you read this is Until The Day You Die by Abney Park. It's an AWESOME steampunk band that I love and suggest to you guys~ Enjoy!**

**England: I am not owned by Worldsweaver.**

**Germany: Ja, niether am I. **

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><p>CHAPTER 4<p>

The harsh Russian winds from General Winter whipped around; Swirling dirtied snow and derbies around with it. The snow barren fields of Stalingrad were painted red with the color of human lives. It was war. Because in the end, all the bodies were the same. Death didn't care whether you were a Nazi, a French revolutionist, or an innocent child. Humans are all fair game if you think about it. You might have been taught that if you did good, you received good. But then what about the man I am about to show you my dear reader? You all know him, and love him. But yet he will suffer.

The pain was immense It rattled the man as he descended face-first into the blood dyed snow. He cried out in pain, causing the nearest man to barely hear him over the cracks of guns and explosions of land-mines.

"Herr Wolfhein." said the man as he fumbled with the small aid-kit he had strapped to his waist.

"Guten tag, Herr Ludwig." Wolfhein forced a sarcastic smile onto his pain riddled face "How are you today?" The injured man sighed as a plane spiraled out of control and landed a couple hundred yards away.

Flames erupted out of the machine as screams split the soldiers ears. That was the one thing that could drown out any gun fire and explosions. It was the small screaming child being ripped away from it's mother as she was forced to her knees and a bullet was put through her head, the men could hear it- no matter how much they didn't want to they still heard it.

"Oh, I could be better I guess. The weather is a bit cold today." Ludwig played along with the other man knowing that this was probably going to be the last night he ever saw- the shrapnel from a car bomb had pierced what looked to be his left lung.

"The weather here is scheisse." Wolfhein said matter-of-factually.

"Ja Wolf, I'd have to agree with you on that." Germany grimaced at the simplistic medical supplies unceremoniously stuffed into the fanny-pac. He stuffed his hand down into the bag and withdrew a pair of socks. Who even needed socks in a battle field?

"Who's packing these bags? Susanne?" Wolfhein almost snorted with laughter at Ludwig's comment. Susanne was the only thing he would chatter on and on about with out starting to complain after a while like he did with his Italian friend.

"Maybe. The girls back home have been getting more and more involved with wars- who knows, some day the fuhrer might be a woman." Wolfhein said before looking up into the clouded gray-black night sky. Blossoms of orange sometimes bloomed and then disappeared from the explosions of aircraft's.

"Hey Ludwig?" The man wet his lips, preparing for a question.

"Ja?" Ludwig replied, he could see a paramedic running towards them.

"Was that?" The man stretched out a weak arm and pointed up into the sky. Ludwig followed where the man was pointing and saw what looked to be a shooting star.

"A shooting star maybe."

"But you can't see shooting star when it's cloudy out." Ludwig had forgotten this man was a professor of astrology. Damn. He felt like an idiot.

"Maybe it's the smoke from a crashing plane."

"Have you gone color blind since the last time I saw you? It's _green._" He chuckled.

"Sir, you can leave now." The paramedic barked as Ludwig stood and left.

The German followed where the falling object might land. It was definitely going to hit the ground near here. A stray bullet whizzed by his head just as he ducked beneath a school sign. In Russian he could hardly translate but it said something along the lines of: "Welcome! Did you do your home work?"

By now the fighting had died down and now the DBC had come and started cleaning up. He had heard an American joke that the DBC in Germany stood for "Dead Body Collectors" It wasn't that far from the truth though.

His head snapped towards the sound of exploding snow as the green thing crashed down to earth. Snow and other unpleasant things shot at least ten feet straight into the air before raining down onto the soldier and whatever the green thing was. He turned a corner and inhaled a sharp breath in shock at what he saw. It couldn't be real. The German rubbed his eyes to try and clear the hallucination he saw. A dragon. No. It had to be something else. There was no such thing as a dragon an Stalingrad of all places. He dragged his heavy military boots through the suddenly thick feeling snow. It felt as if he was walking through wet cement or something that England had cooked.

The shaky rise and fall of the dragons breath as it escaped it partially opened mouth- the heat from it's body had melted the snow around it's body.

"What the hell?" Germany asked himself as the beast rolled onto it's stomach and then got unstably to it's feet. It had to be as tall as his shoulder standing on all fours.

The creature was a deep forest green with piercing yellow cat-like eyes. It turned towards him slowly, one of it's wings had bullet holes in it. The fabric like membrane of the wing was torn slightly but it still looked capable of flight. The creature growled a deep, motor like sound at him as he approached. The German noticed and dropped the semi-automatic weapon he had slung over his back into the snow. Almost instantly the growling stopped.

"Do you know where Papa went?" The creature didn't even move it's mouth, but the voice could be heard easily.

"W-who is your Vatti?" Ludwig stumbled over his words in shock that the creature could speak. It had a double set of wings, One pair on it's back. The other were more like fins and stretched from it's slightly splayed clawed hands to where it's elbow was.

"My Papa. I want England. I can smell him on you. You know him." The creature said again.

"Ja, I know England." He started.

"I want to go back to Papa. Your going to take me to him." The dragon interrupted.

"Hey- I never said I knew where he was. He could be anywhere!" Germany cried out in annoyance.

The creature glared at him, then started to walk towards him. Ludwig took an involuntary step back. Sensing this the thing jumped at him and grasped him by his shoulders. It flapped it's massive wings a couple of times and Ludwig found himself flying backwards- gaining altitude at a surprising rate.

"Verdammt- Let go!" He struggled.

"Belt up, you bloody wanker." With this comment he now knew this thing had to be England's dragon. No one else he knew could teach a dragon how to swear.

The dragon placed a still in shock Ludwig onto it's back. He clung to the elongated neck of the creature as hard as he could as they soared over the remains of Stalingrad. Antiaircraft missile launchers waited solemnly below not noticing the pair flying silently above. Smoke stacks billowed up from what was left of some buildings. Germany kept a strong arm around the creatures neck but reached out with the other and ran his hand through a low flying cloud. The gray puffy mass exploded as his gloved fingers separated it.

They were now at a gliding altitude of a couple hundred feet.

"Where is England." The thing demanded again.

"In England, I don't know." Germany shrugged, with the war he could be anywhere. He looked around them, the sun was just beginning to throw it's red/purple rays across the landscape. Ludwig sighed, he was due to a meeting later today. What were they going to think of him if he showed up late and said he was abducted by a dragon? They would think he had lost it. But what about Italy? He would surely be missing him by now._ Gott._ The man though. _I hope he's not crying for me or anything... _He closed his eyes and slowly started to drift off, he hadn't slept peacefully in two months.

"Wake up." A woman's voice interrupted his sleep, he had been dreaming about Susanne. He didn't want to leave her but he lifted his head off of the hard pillow of dragon shoulder and groggily glared at the mid day sun. How long had he been sleeping? There wasn't any snow on the ground and he could see the sea. but they were still in a war ridden area, because _Oh, gott. _He could see the antiaircraft guns pointed directly at them. He heard the loud explosion of the cannons as they went off. Thinking quickly he grabbed the dragon, to her displeasure. And steered her with the boney protrusions to bank to the left as the missiles shot threw the air they had just been in a second before. He yelled as he was thrown off of his position on the dragon and now only hung by his grasp on the dragons horns.

"OW- BLOODY HELL THAT HURTS!" She screeched as her head was yanked back from Ludwig loosing his balance. She grabbed him by the torso and placed him back onto her back.

Ludwig clung to her neck with all his might as she dove and banked to avoid the shots fired by the AA guns.

"Hold on." The she dragon yelled over the roaring of the wind and gun fire- she started to fly straight up.

Ludwig thought he was strangling her because after a while she stopped flapping her wings- in fact. She started to fall. He loosened his grip but nothing happened- they were still plummeting down towards the earth. Ludwig screamed for her to pull out of her limpness but nothing happened.

"I know what I'm doing. Now belt up and hold on tightly." She yelled back at him. Still in her limp state they had to now be a hundred yards from the earth and losing altitude fast.

Ludwig followed her orders and hugged himself as tightly to her hard green scales as he possibly could. He took a deep breath before having it all knocked out of him when she spread her wings a couple meters from the earth the wind from her wing beats turned up the fresh soil of a tomato field as she sped across it dodging shot after shot Ludwig could hardly open his eyes from all the dirt flying every where but he reached down and spread open his hand. A large fresh tomato half landed half exploded against his gloved palm and he brought it back up to examine it. Half of the tomato was a gorgeous red and dappled orange. It wasn't a regular round tomato- it was an heirloom tomato. It reminded him of a pumpkin. Unfortunately the other half of the tomato had been squashed against his palm with so much force it had partially imploded and it looked as if he would now how tomato bound to his skin for the rest of eternity.

He bit into while they dodged the projectiles as they exploded in the fields. Damn. Italian tomatoes were good. He thought as he chewed and swallowed the lump of red goo. Just then everything was suddenly spinning- The girls wing had been clipped by the last shot as they tumbled head over heels crashing into the field. A couple of soldiers and a short brunette man ran out into the field as the dirt rained down on the two. Ludwig could see stars as his eyes slowly closed.

A tattoo of a dragon wrapping itself around his forearm.

* * *

><p><strong>Germany: AH! I got a tattoo! <strong>

**WW: Yes. Yes you did. And sorry for no warning about the depressing beginging- I hate wars so I thought that adding my own thoughts about them into this might make it seem a bit more realistic. **

**Sorry- *is shot***


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